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Topic: Convergence (Chap IV) (Read 56825 times)

For the briefest of moments, a tinge of surprise floated down the spine of the armored man burrowed into the mud at the top of the hill. His own trick, it would seem, had been borrowed by another. But now would not be the time to fall into the chorus, especially of that tune. Not when he had his own surprises to grant. A moment of casting his eye about to locate his Brother, to signal him to take cover, and Adan began to draw his great bow, trying his very best to take a bead on the near crossbowman as he did so.

"Coward!" shouted Vorodon as he saw the huge brigand retreat. He considered heaving a dart at the verbeeg's retreating figure, but the range was too far. With an inarticulate roar that echoed through the hills, the volgotoi warrior hurled his deadly missiles at the bandit's approaching allies.

(OOC: Vorodon will target those who most directly threaten his allies, giving priority to those already wounded.)

Coward. This did not sit well with Brown Borgradoc as he backed up quickly and turned to escape.

Whhhhoooooooooommmmmm.....THHUNGGG!

What was that? Dumjakk thought to himself as he turned toward his half-brother Limper who was some distance away. The crossbow wielder's answer came suddenly.

Limper howled and roared. It seemed for a few moments that his screaming was the loudest sound in all the world. To his credit, Limper still held his huge crossbow, bolt still cocked, but now the verbeeg had risen form his hidey hole, and jumped up and down in obvious and extreme pain. Sticking out from his backside, was a crossbow bolt. A verbeeg bolt to boot. So deep was it lodged in the verbeeg's arse, that only a few inches could be seen of the foul missile.

Dumjakk looked around confused. Limper hopped from foot to foot, and swung around violently, sending his own cocked bolt a'flying.

whhhoooooommm, thhhungg!

Limper's bolt hit Dumjakk in the thigh, and now Dumjakk was howling as well, and pointing his crossbow back at Limper, as he lodged another one of his own missiles into the apparatus.

Just as this was happening, Borgradoc backed up enough to now be near his two "archers".

"What are you fools doing?!" Borgradoc raged, and at this Dumjakk stopped just as he was about to spear Limper with a bolt.

Limper, however, was still screaming maniacally, his face contorted with fear and rage, and ignored his leader entirely.

Borgradoc scanned the terrain. So the ogre forces were behind them as well. For a moment Borgradoc paused, unsure of what to do.

"Dumjakk, you blithering idiot, you are being fired upon from behind! To me, now!" then, "If anything moves. Anything. Anything other than Limper (who was still howling), FIRE!! Understand? UNDERSTAND?"

Dumjakk managed to nod, his own thigh wound now bleeding profusely.

"Forget Limper. Come. We will go back down into the gorge, you and I"

Carefully, the two made their way away from the battle, and back from whence they came. Back, but towards the exact spot where Tristan and Adan were half-buried in mud, and waiting.

<ooc>Trigu was with you, Adan. A 19! I'll wait on Tristan. Hehe, CM has a lot to catch up on</ooc>

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

He watched as the obvious leader of these “ruffians” turned tail and began to run, the ogrish fellow shouting at his back. “d**n shame, that is” he chuckled, watching the scene before him closely as he set his yarting down on a small patch of grass relatively free of muck. This is bad…

Looking at the fray at the base of the hill, his eyes shifted from the people engaging what looked to be a band of mad ogres and his weapons. Sure wish I brought a bow or something…

With no more than half a second’s hesitation, he slipped his arm into the straps of his buckler. Pulling his dagger from his belt with the same hand, the curved point facing down, he loosed the strap on his broadsword and began his mad rush down the hill at top speed, laughing and drawing his sword. This is going to be interesting…

Logged

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats." ~Henry L Mencken

<ooc> waiting on Tristan, Kyrian, Talia, and Aerex for their attack/actions, then I'll post the battle at the base of the hill. First thing that happens will be Voro's dart flying. Then Wand's mad dash </ooc>

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Talia sighed in irritation. Well, if the dog... thing was fighting with Kyrian, she couldn't get a clear shot, and the knight wouldn't appreciate it any way. Voro had returned, that was good. She shifted her focus to the leader. She still thought he was the biggest threat, and she was in a foul mood any way. She darted past Aerex, her readied fan suddenly spinning through the air at the leader. She followed it, charging towards him with her other fan held at the ready. Oh, he'd regret demanding tribute from this group. A lot.

(OOC: Throwing at Borgradoc, and trying to close the distance as fast as possible so I might pummel him next round.)

Lord of All, All glory is yours, now and forever! I am thy vessel, fill me as thou shalt, and release me as thou shalt!

His bow redrawn during the moments of confusion and discussion, Adan had spent long moments trying to draw the bead on his next target... at least until the bead decided to draw itself for him. One shot. It would have to count. He would have to wait until Borgadoc was nearly upon him, to swing up and fire, such that the small giant would be so large and close to fill his entire field of fire... ...and then pray he could get away, sliding and rolling upon the mud. It would be madness at best. But it would seem the Lord was taking his evening meal with a side of Extra Chaos tonight. Perhaps he and Tristan might yet live, but for now, he would wait, motionless within the cold, viscous ooze.

Matare groaned slightly. "I love it when our plans come together," he muttered. Cautiously walking backward, Aerex smoothly pulled out his short bow, knocked an arrow, and let it loose at one of the charging Verbeeg, aiming for its ugly head. It would be easier to handle one berserking giant than two. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted with a hint of pride that Talia was charging straight for Borgradoc. The glint of the sun in her flying fan shone like a jewel.

(OOC: Attempting to fire and put the teensiest more distance between Aerex and his foes.)

"Rancid worm! Return and kiss my blade!" Kyrian called, adrenaline rushing through every fiber of his being, the hunt, the battle upon him.Dog's head was exposed, wih him being on all fours - that is where he would strike. He pounced, swinging the Carmine Rose in a wide arc.

"Die like the dog you are!"

His quarry was fleeng. Kyrian would have none of that. Right after his strike, he surged past the ogres, towards Borgadoc. "Let me turn you red, Werepig of Feculent Hue!"

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the path of righteousness for His Name sake. Yea though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou annointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely mercy and goodness shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

"We find ourselves in the Valley brother. Yet we need not fear, for Trigu's Hand will cover and protect us in the face of the worst the Evil One throws at us. We'll wait until they get close enough so that that bow of theirs is useless, then unleash the wrath of Trigu upon them. The blood of the innocent shall be avenged this day." Tristan's demeanor had changed completely from what he had been before. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his voice or mind. To him, his faith was all he needed to charge the jaws of evil with a stick. This was a different priest than the one who had cried for mercy for the false prophets at Bale's Root. No mercy would be given to those who heeded not the warning of the priest.

1.5 Rounds, Part I (If you are featured here, feel free to act. Part II coming shortly for the others)

Kyrian’s blade struck true, perhaps even too easily, lacerating Dog’s fetid flesh like butter in the hot sun. Cheek, and ear, and nose, bits of neck and great clumps of hair, tore cleanly off the left side of the Verbeeg’s face and skull, blood spurting profusely, and shingles of cheap ring mail flying through the air. The blade’s precision however, enabled the charging behemoth’s mad rush to go on, and as Kyrian side-stepped swiftly, Dog went stumbling forward, crashing momentarily into the base of the mud-gorged hill. Burrowing out with rage, Dog once more assaulted the elf, ignoring its own bloody half-face, and leaping this time, smashing directly into Kyrian’s mailed form. Knocked off his feet, Kyrian was now on his back in the mud, with Dog clumsily astride his chest and raising his massive fists to pummel Kyrian’s helmed face. A shot like that, Kyrian had time to muse, would most likely permanently fuse the metal of the helm with my skull.

<ooc> Kyrian hit for 11 dam. Dog missed. Dog won initiative. Dog bowled Kyrian over, knocking him flat on his back. For 2 dam. Your move. Then initiative. *rolling* You win. You have two attacks/actions</ooc>

The iron dart bore deep enough into Yoord’s fleshy shoulder to crack a piece of the Verbeeg’s shoulder blade. The pain must have been intense, yet Yoord’s visage changed little from the hideous, squinty-eyed, foaming-mouthed, countenance it already portrayed. Swinging his spear wildly, in lieu of his planned lunge, while trying to ignore the shooting pain, Yoord’s weapon missed the ducking Talia badly, swishing overhead in a wide time-consuming arc, as the Bladedancer, ran around the behemoth, as a hart would run past a sleeping bear. Talia did not even slow her sprint, as she easily bypassed Yoord’s hulking form, and continued her pursuit of the retreating Borgradoc. Angry now, for her steel fan had missed its mark, clanging off an exposed boulder and sending sparks flying. The weapon ricocheted and buried softly into a pile of mud, a mere ten feet from Borgradoc’s back. As Talia gained, she could make out screams of pain and the sound of bolts whistling through the air. So Borgradoc had more men, she thought, but why were they screaming? Second fan clutched tightly, Talia continued on, then slowed instinctively, as she spied one Verbeeg jumping up and down uncontrollably and shouting in excruciating discomfort. Ahead, another forty feet now, was Borgradoc fleeing with one other crossbow wielding verbeeg, heading west in the direction of the Great Gorge, and less than a thousand feet away now from its cusp. Suddenly, Borgradoc stopped and turned, signaling his lackey Dumjakk to turn as well, and pointed at Talia. Dumjakk fired a bolt. A missile whizzed, and suddenly tore through the leather and flesh of Talia’s left arm, then continued on its trajectory. A direct hit may have been fatal, but as is, the wound was not deep.

Adan and Tristan were buried in mud a mere ten feet away from the two Verbeeg, who were now eyeing Talia, and had their backs to the Triguians.

<ooc> Talia missed with initial fan throw, Yoord, rushing by, missed Talia, then Dumjakk grazed her arm with a bolt. 4 dam. Initiative rolled. Talia wins. Tristan and Adan are free to act as well, unseen as of yet by the two Verbeeg, now staring down the coming Bladedancer. </ooc>

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

His move might have been wiser - lying in the mud, Kyrian realized that Dog probably used his head only for eating. He'd notice a lack of it only when it was time to munch on the bones of the fallen.

Not that the pooch would ever munch anything again if Kyrian had any say in the matter.

Hissing, he grasped his weapon by the blade as well as the hilt, and ran the humming metal's edge across the ogre's exposed throat. Truth be said, he liked fighting people more. People were easy to dispatch by one strike, covering in agony as soon as they suffered but one blow. You could dispatch a man by loping off his hand, slashing him once across the belly, or prodding him in his family jewels.

The blade's tip was pointed towards that rabid mutt from the last strike, seeking but a target. Kyrian thrust it towards dog's underbelly.

"Hardly sporting. But well - I don't do sport!"

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Talia snarled as the verbeeg scored on her arm. It hurt, but it wasn't enough to stop her. She was more irritated about missing her throw; she probably couldn't grab the fan just now without sacrificing some momentum, which she did not want to do yet. She could fight with one fan as well as two. She went straight for Borgradoc, steel glinting as she slashed at the behemoth. If all went well, her own forward motion would make the blades bite harder. In any case, she meant to keep going past him; she sensed that close quarters would be inadvisable for someone of her relative smallness. Plus, a moving target was always harder to hit.

((OOC: I'm aiming at a hit and run, here. One charging attack, and keep going.))

Mrok meanwhile focused his spear attack on the backtracking Aerex, who had effortlessly notched an arrow and let loose, at the marauding Verbeeg. The missile struck the misshapen giant in his belly, causing him to grunt and slow his stride briefly. Another arrow fired before the monster could reach the wiry ranger, and another hit, this one also burrowing into Mrok’s fleshy gut. Then another dart, iron, cruel, and familiar, flung once more with uncanny force, and penetrated entirely into Mrok’s mid-section joining Aerex’ twin arrows. Mrok howled but kept coming, finally lunging at Aerex with his twelve-foot spear, but missing, staggering forward, and turning to face the elusive little man once more. Uphill and behind, Vorodon drew more darts, deciding on his next pin-cushion.

With a scream in tongues unknown came the downhill mad rush of the bold and mysterious stranger, Kasin Mirinar. Dagger and broadsword slashed through the air, the dagger missing, but the broadsword slicing the surprised Mrok, across the verbeeg’s back and drawing a thin red line. Mrok whirled, and impaled the bravado through the gut and out the back with his massive spear. Mirinar’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at his own navel. A mortal wound, yet, it would not kill him in the short term....it had happened too quickly. Impaled now though as he was, Mirinar feebly swung his blade, missing the giant, as Mrok brought his second hand, and full strength to lift the spear and thrashing salmon aloft into the air. Now airborne, Mirinar slowly started to slide down the weapon’s shaft. His eyes began to cloud. Yet another dart, merciless missile that it was, burrowed into Mrok's thigh, yet the now crazed verbeeg still held Mirinar aloft.

<ooc> Aerex hit with both arrows (+1 for bow due to rangerhood ). 9 dam. Vorodon has hit with all 3 darts so far. Two on Mrok and one on Yoord for a total of 3 and 7 dam respectively. Mrok missed. Mirinar hit with broadsword. 4 dam. Mrok really hit Mirinar (20), impaling him, and dealing 13 dam. Mrok is now holding Mirinar aloft and getting ready to swing him around by the spear, either using him to bash Aerex or flinging Mirinar several dozen feet, along with his spear. Initiative won by Aerex, Mirinar, Vorodon. </ooc>

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

The verbeeg that had approached their position were distracted by the approaching brown...female? He wasn't entirely sure because of what looked like mud covering her, but the long white hair and lithe build suggested to the priest that this was a woman. A dangerous one, judging by the length her thrown fan had flown. She certainly held the remaining one as if she knew what she was doing. The archer of the pair of verbeeg had just fired his weapon, the bolt passing through the woman's arm. While the verbeeg's aim showed that it had been smart to stay under cover earlier, he could no longer do so.

"Peace be with you, brother." he whispered as he stood and unclipped his mace from where it always hung on his belt, eying the bladedancer as she continued her charge. He made a long couple of steps, aiming for Dumjakk, the archer. He was already injured from the mishap earlier, once he was out of the fight, Boradoc would be easier to take down.

<OOC: Moving to melee range, making a standard attack against Dumjakk, the archer.>

The weight of the stinking behemoth began to crush Kyrian and take his breath, yet his blade had accomplished its task, slicing a river of running blood, across the verbeeg's soft neck, and moments later plunging point first into the creature's intestinal sack, just above the groin. Dog roared as more blood pumped from his neck, and came down with full force on Kyrian. Apparently he could use his head for one more thing, and that was head-butting Kyrian's face full bore, smashing into the knight's helm, and sending thousands of jagged, icy shards, into the the nerve-endings of Kyrian's skull. For a momment all was black for the knight, but only for a moment. Had his head been resting on rock and not mud, it would have been much worse for Kyrian. Dog's meaty hands, now closed around Kyrian's neck entirely, squeezing the life from the knight, even as his blade dug cleanly deeper, like a surgeon's scalpel, into Dog's underbelly, freeing countless milk-white writhing snakes from his gut, and even as the blood from his throat spilled freely forth. Silently, another dart dug into Dog's back. From this, Dog expired. Vorodon's missile had taken what little life Dog had left.

Now Yoord charged Aerex and managed to nick the ranger with a with the tip of his spear. Aerex grimaced. His bow was no longer useful. Yoord was upon him.

From beneath the suddenly rigid Dog, rose Kyrian, slowly, covered in blood and mud, and convulsing in short rapid breaths.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Borgradoc's eyes bulged open as Talia just kept coming. Brave woman, he thought. "Fire" he yelled at Dumjakk, but the lackey had already missed, and now the Bladedancer was too close for the massive crossbow to be effective. Borgrdaoc stiffened as naked steel cut into his arm. Swinging around to strike back at his opponent, the verbeeg swung his fist at empty air, Talia was already ahead and now behind the verbeeg leader again, swift as a cat, some distance away.

At that moment came the justice of Trigu, in the form of Tristan and his trusty mace, leaping from his hiding spot, and charging Dumjakk spouting prayers of retribution, a steely loook in his eyes. Even as he charged, a thought crept into Tristan's mind. He had known this woman. Flying steel fans were not a common weapon in these parts, or any other.

The mace thudded into Dumjakk's spine, and the verbeeg screamed, turning quickly and smashing Tristan with his crossbow, the armor doing little to dull the jarring pain. Tristan dropped, but rolled and rose again, fires of the holy spirit burning in the young priest's eyes. Only death would stop Tristan now, and maybe not even that.

Borgradoc panicked slightly and withdrew his own weapon for the first time that day. A massive iron, chain which had hung around the giant's waist as a belt, and was now fully brandished, as Borgradoc the Brown swung wildly, slicing the air in slashing arcs. Anyone who came close, would be struck. As he swung the chain, the verbeeg started moving again, toward Talia, toward the spot where Adan was hiding, and hopefully toward the gorge and salvation. Borgradoc cursed under his breath that the oncoming Dusk had would render his trained eagles useless. The desperate giant ran and swung.

Incidentally, the arse-bolted Limper runs off screaming in a random direction, leaving the scene of the battle and his comrades entirely.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Talia skidded around, neatly reversing herself. She took a moment to orient herself, then bolted forward again, towards Borgradoc. She wasn't stupid; she knew that chain he was swinging around was lethal. But this time, she meant to have the thrice-d**ned mud work for her. Just before she got within range, she threw herself down, turning the charge into a slide. She had aimed low this time, at his massive ankles, meaning to hamstring her opponent, or at least make a good try for it. And if she did this properly, once past him, she'd be able to roll into a better stance... hopefully picking up her other fan on the way, or at least landing close enough for it to be practical to grab it.

Vehement prayers of wrath and retribution for the countless innocents lost over the ages of time to monsters like this spilled forth from the priest's lips even as the back of his mind took note of the bladedancer sliding towards Borgradoc in the mud. Talia will be fine, worry about your own neck... He had no time to figure out how he made the connection since his old traveling companion was covered in mud, but now that he had noticed the connection, it was obvious to him. He swung again at the verbeeg in front of him, praying desperately that he'd be able to take this opponent down before Talia's removed her pretty little head from her pretty little neck.

Aerex grunted and spat at the creature. "The Dynast curse you!" he grunted, shoving the bow awkwardly into its quiver and tearing his rapier and dagger from their respective sheathes. He was grateful the stranger had tried to assist and now worried for the man's life, but nothing could be done until his own safety was secured. He gave a combination slash-thrust at the Verbeeg assaulting him, hoping the one with the now-impaled stranger would be held off for the time being.(OOC: Attacking Yoorg!)

As Talia slid, her body low and as close to out of the arc of fire as possible, one final time, that massive bow would sing out its song of dorsal impalement, deliberately aimed high and up, while the sheer recoil of iron flying forwards would drive the pilgrim bearing it even further into the ground. Lord! Though I am nothing, I beg of thee! Preserve those who serve you in the face of darkness!

Steeling his nerves, preparing to dodge and flee, Adan let loose of the improvised bow, reaching through the mud for the blade sheathed at his side, even as he raised his mudspattered face, and began to lift his voice, once more in that dreadful hymn of retribution. Though showing his voice would likely cost him his life, these things deserved to know the power behind their destruction.

Dazed, Kasin stared down the shaft of the spear at the rather agitated ogre. The world began to fade away to blackness, consciousness slowly slipping away. The pain, what there was of it noticeable through the shock, seemed cold and distant.Didn’t see my day ending up like this…

In a moment of pure desperation, or perhaps the primal instinct to survive, he held his broadsword high above his head. I’m not ending my days like this…

He began to sing a song from his childhood, softly. One of honor, glory and sacrifice…“Oh I have the heart of a warrior,and although I am low borne,I hope one day I’ll be sworn,to be a Knight so I can fight to serve my Lord…”

With all the strength remaining in his broken body, he flung his sword as straight as he could at the howling head of the ogre on the other end of the spear protruding most offensively from his midsection.

<<OOC: It seems my best and only hope is a simple act of desperation. Here goes nothing…>>

Logged

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats." ~Henry L Mencken

One down, a few more to go. Everything must start somewhere. Kyrian was in medias res, and becoming fired up. With one hefty strike, he cleaved off the Dog's arm, or rather, front paw at the shoulder, and picked up the battered appendage. Sword held in his right, the bloody limb in the other, he headed towards the raider leader... Talia slid by, aiming for the brute's legs, fan spread out to rend Borgadoc's tendons.

The knight used the welcome distraction, and held the severed limb into the path of Borgadoc's whirling chain, letting the weapon wrap itself around the Pooch's meaty arm, and thrusting forward with his blade.

Soaked in blood, the decorative metal blossoms at the junction of the hilt and blade sprung into full bloom even as the crimson tip headed towards the coward's back.

"And the crowd cheers..." Kyrian laughed, licking his own blood off his lips.

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Slipping and sliding across the muddy slope, Vorodon watched helplessly as the traveler rushed the brigands and was spitted for his trouble. Almost losing his balance, the hill-warrior swore passionately, "Dynah corse badmans!" (a phrase he'd heard Aerax utter, but only when Talia wasn't around). He moved to help the impaled stranger, yanking his battle axe from its ring on his belt and directing the lethal instrument toward the brigand's exposed armpit.

Borgraodc could not believe his misshapen eyes. This crazy human woman was rushing directly at him. Fine then! Let her come, the massive verbeeg thought, I will separate her head from her shoulders.

Still swinging his chain in a whizzing arc of certain death, Borgradoc braced himself for Talia’s mad rush.

This time, the mud proved a boon. As soon as Talia slid, she continued at breakneck speed, but now low to the ground, dirt and water filling her eyes and mouth, though she did not care. She could still see the beast’s meaty shins, and aimed for them. As she drew close, she could hear the “whiz” of iron chain, only feet above her, but also noticed that Borgradoc had taken a wide stance. If her gambit worked, she could slide right between the verbeeg’s legs...

Tristan charged and attacked, oblivious to all around him except his still standing adversary. This time the young priest missed with his mace, the momentum carrying him in a forward lunge. That same momentum, however, had caused Dumjakk to miss Tristan in turn with the crossbow he was now using as a melee weapon, and now both man and verbeeg turned to face one another again. Desperation and rage in the verbeeg’s eyes, and steely determination (suicidal?) on Tristan’s face.

Talia’s fan sliced Borgradoc’s shin effortlessly, and the bladedancer kept right on sliding, looking up momentarily and ruing the fact that she had not aimed for the giant’s groin. Seconds later, she was fifteen feet away, completely covered in grime, and feeling around for her second fan. No luck there. It was somewhere nearby, but at this moment in time, it was not wise to spend time digging. Especially not since Borgradoc now charged the woman, bubbling with an uncontrollable rage.

“Whhhoooooooooooooom” Another verbeeg bolt fired from somewhere, (no one was sure from where it came, in the heat of battle), but missed everything and went whizzing by, certain death, for anyone in its way. Unfortunately no one was, and no would ever know where that mighty bolt would land. Adan grunted from the recoil.

Finally, Dumjakk spotted the mud-buried warrior. And now Adan began to rise from the mud, a spectre, a muddy wraith, blade clutched tightly, a drone, nay a song, emanating from his crusted lips. Dumjakk’s eyes opened wide (there was recognition), but Dumjakk knew there was no running now. Only battle. He moved toward Adan. But between him and the man with the giant crossbow, there stood Tristan.

Shouting horrible insults at Borgradoc and Dumjakk came Kyrian suddenly, moving gracefully toward his chosen new target. He had covered a great distance in a short amount of time, and though bloody and muddy from his exertion with Dog, the elven knight wanted glory. And the glory was here...here, with the chain swinging Borgradoc.

Swinging his broken crossbow once more, Dumjakk scored a hit on Tristan, and this time, the young Triguian knew great pain. Falling backwards into the mud, he was much slower getting up this time. But still rose.

Borgradoc had eyes only for Talia, who was now nearly beside the grinning Kyrian. It was the two of them and Borgradoc now, and the rest of the world did not exist.

"And the crowd cheers..." Kyrian laughed, licking his own blood off his lips.

<ooc> Dumjakk did 4 to Tristan (danger, danger! Hp!). Talia and Kyrian get actions/attacks on Borgy before he pummels someone with chain (badly pummels ) </ooc>

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.